


you sit in my stomach and i break my arms trying to reach you

by midnightmads



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Falling In Love, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Marauders, Marauders' Era, Unrequited Love, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-13 11:58:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14111856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightmads/pseuds/midnightmads
Summary: "He’s a dream. And you don’t ever want to wake up."or Sirius loves Remus and it hurts so so so much





	1. you sit in my stomach and i break my arms trying to reach you

**I. You’re 11 when you meet and you’re completely clueless.**

Your first Hogwarts train ride had made you so nervous you puked in the train station bathroom before getting onto the platform. You didn’t know where to sit, who to talk to, or what to do once you were on the train, until a boy— James Potter— introduced himself to you and you two hit it off immediately, though it was different with a boy called Severus Snape. He loathed you the minute you laid eyes on him. 

Your cousin Narcissa had given you the lay out, there was a torture chamber in the Great Hall and The Sorting Hat would pull your hair out and eat it for dinner, but not to worry because Professor McGonagall will use a spell to grow it back. You told this to James as the boat rocked and both of you, scared out of your mind, neared towards the castle and promised to protect each other from the torture chamber in the Great Hall. James chuckled and whispered in your ear, “Maybe when Professor McGonagall grows back Severus’s hair it will come back clean.”

There was no torture chamber in the Great Hall and The Sorting Hat never pulled out your hair— sorting you into Gryffindor along with James. You’re both sat at the end of the table surrounded by talkative first years, eager for dinner when two more people sit across from you. 

You look up into green eyes, sparkling with knowledge and ambition, and you both stay there, staring at each other before his eyes are torn from yours to James, who happily introduces himself. 

“I’m Remus Lupin. And you?” He says, voice quiet but assuring. 

“Sirius Black.” 

 

He becomes your best friend, along with his friend Peter Pettigrew and soon you find yourselves inseparable. You title yourselves “The Marauders” and it feels good to know you’re apart of something. Your mother is ashamed about your house affiliation and you receive endless teasing from Narcissa, informing you that when you get home _your mums going to let you have it._

You lean on your friends and they lean back. But Remus Lupin, all starry eyed and quiet, you admire. Maybe it’s because his smile is so captivating, making your heart beat a little harder and to a more rapid beat. He sends you more owl’s than James or Peter, and you respond to his the minute you get them— a goofy smile on your face the whole time. 

Over the summer holiday, your only company is your owl, the owl that brings Remus to you and you to Remus. It’s two weeks before your second year when you accidentally write _Love, Sirius_ on one of your letters, throwing it out quickly and rewriting it. And then two months into your second year when you realize you meant it. 

**II. His eyes sparkle when he laughs, and you think you fly every time.**

For your thirteenth birthday he gives you a frame, it’s of all of you waving, your first time in Hogsmeade. James has an arm around your shoulder, holding a large lollipop, and your tongue is turning from blue to purple to green, Peter has Fudge Flies poking out of his mouth, and Remus just has a bag of Jelly Beans, a mature smile on his face.

You stare at it for a long time, but not at yourself, James, or Peter, but at Remus. You’re not sure when you began to _need_ him. Maybe when your mother fully ignored you, not even leaving you a bit of dinner, or sending you a birthday present. You may not have needed your mother, but you needed your best friend. 

You’re thirteen and flinging dung bombs against walls and pranking your friends with charms and getting in trouble. Theres never a dull day. Until you, James, and Peter walk into the common room one night and find Remus leaned over a book with Amada Daunay, laughing. 

Your blood heats up and your face turns red, your eyes narrow falling on Amada. James pats you and peter on the shoulder, laughing to himself, “Seems like Remus is a little busy, boys.” 

You realize that you’re not his whole world in that moment, that you’re _jealous._ But you’re not sure why. You like to tell yourself you’re jealous because you don’t have a girlfriend, until you realize you don’t want one. You want him. It’s a shock at first— but how could you not? It were his letters that kept you company during the lonely holidays at your mothers house, his hands that always guided you and traced underneath lines in textbooks because he always lost his place when reading, his smile that always completed you.

He was completely and wholly yours, until he wasn’t.

**III. He always hated the moon, but he loved the stars.**

He goes home a lot, and the professors and your friends are used to it, but you’re not. You don’t like it when he leaves because he comes back looking sick, and it worries you. You even tried talking to him about it but he pushed you off, giving you the usual— “My mother needs my help back home, she’s ill, I’ll be back soon.”

Driven mad by the thought of having to see your sick friend again, you decide to follow him. You walk far behind him watching as he hangs his head, holding a brown leather case beside him as he walks. Theres a small tree, no taller than you are coming from the ground and it’s limbs are thick but small. It twists and turns and you realize as you get closer that it’s trying to hit him. 

You’re about to yell for him to watch out, but he raises his wand and points it at the tree. _“Immobulus!”_ The tree stops moving and he ducks underneath it. You break into a run and head in the same direction, repeating his spell and following him. The tunnel is dark as you walk and you mutter an illuminating spell to your wand as it flashes and lights the path for you. 

As you emerge from the tunnel you find yourself inside of an old house, you look around as the floorboards and walls creek around you. 

“Sirius?!”

You spin around and see Remus, arms folded over his chest looking annoyed. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

You’re stunned at his choice of words and clear your throat. “Nothing. What are you doing here?”

“Nothing! It’s none of you’re business!”

“Wheres your mum?”

“She’s- She’s-“

“Remus, what’s going on?”

He looks out of the shabby window of the house to the becoming moon. “You have to leave.”

“Tell me whats wrong!”

“No! You must-“

“Are you a werwolf?”

He falls silence and looks at you with distraught, wide eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Me, James, and Peter noticed… you only leave when theres about to be a full moon. It’s the same time each month.”

He stays silent and you take a step closer to him. “We guessed it in second year, Remus. We still love you, and you’re still our best friend.” _I still love you._

“No. That’s crazy!”

“Remus…” You sigh and take both of his hands in yours, his eyes begin to water and his breaths are panicked and irregular. “Please. Let me in.”

He shakes his head and you squeeze his hands. “I am. I am. And I know you’re going to hate me for it—“

“I could never hate you.”

He looks up, and your heart breaks because his beautiful eyes are swimming with tears. “Really?”

“You’re my best friend. Of course. You really think that this changes anything?”

“Well, technically—“

You laugh and so does he, it’s sad and watery but it’s still a laugh and you take pride in it. “Shut up.”

He lets go of your hands and you both slide down to sit on the floor, knees touching each other, but you still take one of his hands and his fingers intertwine with yours.

Remus frowns. “I’m sorry.”

You squeeze his hand again. “Don’t be sorry. Thank you for telling me.”

His head falls against your shoulder and you both stay there, unmoving. “You have to leave soon, Sirius. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

**IV. He thinks you’re marvelous, and you think he’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.**

You left after another fight with your mother, after she pulled out her wand and pointed it straight at your throat. Sitting on the curb of the nearby park, you raised your wand— greeted by the Knight Bus. You took it all the way to Wales, only getting sick a record of two times, and was dropped off in front of Remus’s dimly lit house. 

You meet his mother, Hope, two weeks before fifth year and she’s not sick at all. In fact, she’s a very beautiful muggle woman who always gives you extra biscuits to go with your tea. You stay with Remus for two weeks, with visits from James and Peter often. Remus’s mother does things the muggle way, you watch as she uses her hands to wash dishes and how she has to turn a knob on the oven for a fire to flick on. 

She teaches you one night when you ask, and you spend a good amount of time flicking the stove fire while looking over at Remus with a delighted smile. “So cool.” You marvel. Remus looks back and his lips split into a wide smile and he lets out a loud laugh, his mother following after.

He takes a step towards you, slinging an arm across your shoulder and pulling you close. Your stomach flips and your heart beats rapidly. The side of your head falls against yours and your insides burn like the fire you flick on once more. 

 

He dreads full moons. Absolutely dreads them and you swear you’ve even hurt him cry over the coming of one. You sit with him in the Gryffindor common room, a pile of unfinished homework splayed across the table in front of you, facing the fire. You look over and see his face, illuminated by the flames, but it’s not the curious one that you love. He looks sad.

“Remus?”

He doesn’t respond so you take his hand, you have been doing this more often and you find that it soothes him more than a hot cup of tea and a book. You squeeze it and he finally peels his eyes from the fire and brings them to yours. “Yeah, Sirius?”

“Whats wrong, mate?”

He shakes his head and looks down. “I hate this.” He sighs. “It sucks being alone, especially in that state. It always hurts so bad.”

You frown as his voice cracks and you move closer to him, still holding hands. “You’re never alone, Remus. I wish I could be there.”

He smiles sadly. “Me too. It would make things so much easier.”

He falls asleep next to you that night, so exhausted from endless amounts of homework and the overbearing thought of a full moon. You’re finishing writing an essay for McGonagall when you feel a sudden weight on your shoulder, and the tickle of dirty blonde hair against your jaw. You turn your head just slightly as not to disturb him and see him finally at peace, the end of your essay is rubbish and you get a P marked on the top, but it was all worth it for him to fall asleep on you. Giving you the chance to let your eyes loom over his face, like you never have.

You, James, and Peter saw Remus off before sunset the next evening, watching as he slowly walked towards the growing tree that was starting to get the reputation as the Whomping Willow.

You excused yourself from dinner early— oddly enough to go to the library. Your eyes searched through the millions of books before landing on a large green one, pulling it from the shelves and checking it out. Sitting in the common room, you heard the portrait swing open and looked up to see James and Peter step in. “Where did you go?” Peter asks, sitting next to you.

“And what are you reading?” James asks next. 

You close the book with a loud _THUMP!_ and stand up in front of your friends. “I have an idea…"

**V. He’s Moony, you’re Padfoot and it’s perfect.**

It was a harder process than you thought, and thats not including the legal matters— you three are _“forgetting”_ that part. The long nights left you tired and angry, and you watched Remus come back looking more thin and frail every time, his depressive episodes lasting weeks, only leaving a few number of days when he was himself. 

It made you angry that you couldn’t help him. 

Your tactics against Snape became even more malicious during this time, following James’s lead and taking out your anger on the snotty nosed, greasy-haired, Dark Arts loving boy. But then you were alone once again because James would go chasing after Lily right after and always had Quidditch practice.

For a whole month, the three of you managed to hide the leaf-sucking and you always made sure your friends had kept their leaves in. You all learned how to keep it stable on your tongue while drinking liquids, but foods besides soup were out of the question. Thankfully, Remus was too dazed to notice your lack of solid food.

You had never heard Peter Pettigrew curse before, but when he swallowed his portion of the potion, he had his fare share of cursing that night as your world shrunk around you. When you reopened your eyes, you were looking at a rat and a stag. You went to open your mouth to speak but you barked instead.

The room was filled with animal noises and crashes as the stags antlers crashed into everything and your tail kept knocking over books. With a thought of your human self, you fell on the ground as a boy again. And the stag turned around, anxious, knocking over a chair. 

“You have to think hard!”

Suddenly, the stag became James, and the rat became Peter and you all burst into laughter in the cluttered room. When Remus arrived at twelve past nine into your dormitory, he gasped as three animals had been let into his room. 

“ _Bloody HELL!”_

You transformed first, standing in front of him. He nearly fainted and James held him up as Peter helped him sit down on the bed. “What- Wha?”

“We became Animagi.” Peter said proudly and Remus’s eyes widened. 

“Why would you do that? It’s not even legal- unless you’re registered- you can’t be registered, you’re all underage!”

“Calm down, mate.” James says sitting next to him and handing him a glass of water. 

The glass shakes in his hand. “I-I don’t understand.”

You stepped in front of him. “We want to help you. You said you didn’t want to be alone, and now when full moon comes, you won’t be. Wearwolves aren’t as aggressive to other animals— we read on it.”

“You _read?"_

James huffed and flopped backwards on Remus’s bed. “A. Lot.”

Remus looked into your eyes, still looking panicked. “You shouldn’t have.”

You smiled and took his shaking hand between yours, the cool glass of the water chilling you. “You’re right. But when have we ever followed the rules.”

 

His next full moon, you spent it together inside of the shack, laying on the floor and listening to the night. Outside you could hear Remus, howling at the moon and running around. But he came in later, curling up on the floor beside the battered couch where you lay. 

He fell asleep and so did you. When you woke up the next morning you saw a teenage boy laying on the floor, Remus. But only this time, there were no cuts and marks on him. 

They called you Padfoot, and you called James Prongs. Peter was Wormtail. And Remus became Moony. 

It was perfect. 

**VI. Then it wasn’t perfect, but he was your friend regardless.**

You slam your bedroom door behind you, and turn angrily to it, showing your mother a rude gesture from behind the wood. The sunset shines into your room through a window, reflecting a perfect ray in the middle of your bedroom. 

Stomping over to your drawer, you yank out a pack of cigarettes and raise one to your lips, lighting it. You smirk, inhaling the smoke and take out the muggle radio you bought off a sidewalk sale and press play, laying in the misty ray of sunlight. The muggle music artist, David Bowie, fills your room, thumping through the floors and the walls. 

You close your eyes and continue smoking, letting the music fill you and take away the feelings. You’ve smoked before, a bunch of times outside your bedroom window, dropping the cigarette butts in the flower bush below. Kreacher never takes care of it, so you don’t bother. 

The warmth spreads across. your face and body and your long, curly, black hair sprawls around your head, heating up also. You swear you hear your mother yelling from down stairs but you don’t give her the time of day— continuing to fold into this muggle song and suck up this cigarette. 

Theres pounding on the stairs and you blow out a long line of smoke, hazy eyes looking upward at your ancient, engraved ceiling. The tape clicks as theres pounding on your door, “YOU GET OUT OF MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW! RIGHT. NOW!”

You don’t bother standing up and your mother points her wand at your door, _“BOMBARDA!”_ And it blasts off the hinges and she steps in, eye twitching. You sit up on your elbows and look her straight in the eye, acting as if though you’ve done nothing wrong— really you haven’t, this is how _teenagers are._ “Get the _fuck_ out of my house.” She says through gritted teeth.

You simply stand up and walk towards her, black combat boots thumping against the rug. You stand in front of her, taller, and take one more drag from your cigarette, dropping it against the musty carpet and twisting your boot on it. 

“Bye.”

 

_Hello, daddy. Hello, mom._

_I'm your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb_ _!_

 

James opened the door and you told him everything that had occurred quickly, with your words meshing together and sweat trickling down your long hair.

You stayed up all night with James, talking about nonsense and playing exploding snap on his bedroom floor.

Theres a familiar hoot belonging to your owl as he flies into James’s room and perches himself on James’s desk.

“Oi! That owl better not leave any droppings.” He warns jokingly as you cross the room to retrieve the letter on it’s leg. You unfold it and a warmth comes over you. 

_Sirius,_

_I’m so sorry. I wish I could offer you a place to stay but I am currently on holiday with my family in Morecambe Bay, we’re staying at a muggle hotel called The Morecambe Bay Hotel. It’s nice here and I wish you could be here. But I’m sure James’s family will love you just as much as mine, if you’re not already there. I hope you are doing well, and James too if he’s there, (Hi James.) Reply soon._

_Remus J. Lupin_

You look at James and he looks startled. “Oh Gods, what now?”

“What do you say we go on a bit of an adventure?”

James huffs and places both hands on his hips. “You know if I knew you were going to bloody come to my house and act like we do in Hogwarts I would’ve left you on my porch. My mum thinks I’m a good boy there.”

“Oh how disappointed she’ll be when she talks to McGonagall at graduation.”

“Shut it. And besides, how in the bloody hell are we going to get there? It’s three hours away- _ohhh._ ”

Wind ripped at your skin, blowing your hair back and making you squint against the rain that suddenly came flooding down. James held his hoodie over his face to block his eyes, shaking behind you on your motercycle. You leaned forward moving North towards Morecambe Bay, the rain pelting your exposed skin and soaking your chin-length hair. 

When the lights of the city faded, you progressively moved towards the ground, searching for the coastline. Forty-five minutes later you found it and touched down on the sand, waves crashing as you did so. James leaned over the side and vomited into the sand. 

Looking to your left you could see the moon as it hovered over the sea, glowing peacefully. A half moon. Then you turned to your right and saw a long row of shops and dim streetlights, one of which was hanging over a blue hotel _The Morecambe Bay Hotel._

“James— are you settled, mate? Let’s go.”

James stumbled out of the cart and fixed his hoodie. “Sirius you look like a wet dog.”

“Very funny. Your dog jokes never fail to make me contemplate suicide.”

You both neared the hotel and as you entered the older woman at the front desk looked appalled at the sight of you. “Can I _help_ you?”

“Yes actually, we’re friends with the Lupin family and are here to surprise them— could you tell us which room they are in?”

She blinked rapidly before flipping through the dusty, yellowing guestbook. “Upstairs to the right, room 207.”

“Thank you.” James said, winking at her as you both stomped up the stairs, leaving more sand prints than necessary. You followed the doors to the right until you came to room 207, knocking on it. “Coming!” Shouted a voice and both you and James smiled.

The door swung open and there stood Remus Lupin with a light tan and longer hair than usual, wearing a   old The Weird Sisters shirt and overly-large sweats. “What the-“

“The Weird Sisters? Gods, Remus you need to listen to real music.”

Remus didn’t look at James however, all his attention focused on you. “What are you doing here?”

“Decided to come by for a little visit.” You grinned. 

 

You had never been to the beach before and the feeling of sand on your bare feet was one that took a bit of adjusting. James entertained himself by playing with Ghost Crabs and wiggling his feet underneath mounds of sand. 

“Why did she kick you?” Remus asked beside you, both of you sitting in the cool sand.

“Because I was friends with people who weren’t pure-bloods, because I was interested in muggles, because I don’t want to be like the rest of my family.” Remus frowned. “She lost it because I was listening to The Rolling Stones. She pushed me out of the front door and didn’t even bother to pass down any of my clothes or school supplies— I’m going to have to go back for those eventually.”

Remus took your hand this time. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

You shrugged. “She never liked me.”

“You have us, Sirius. And we won’t ever leave you.” He says and it ignites a fire in your stomach, and you want to kiss him in that moment because he looks so beautiful. His face is glowing in the moonlight and _oh_ he’s laughing at James now, he’s so pretty. You can’t stop looking, he’s looking at you now, he has the best eyes. 

He’s a dream. And you don’t ever want to wake up. 

**VII. He said you were beautiful.**

You graduated Hogwarts a little more than a year after that, your mother didn’t show up for your graduation, and you didn’t expect her too. Not that you minded, you actually preferred never to see her face again. _Old witch._

Once the graduation ceremony commenced and families departed, the graduates all walked together towards Hogsmeade, anticipating the musty smell of The Three Broomsticks. The pup was soon crowded, robes of green, yellow, blue, and red scattered everywhere, while wizard songs played loudly on the pup radio. 

You sat with James, Lily, Remus and Peter in the back, full bottles of butterbeer in front of you all. James raises his first, hair messy and glasses lopsided, his arm around his girlfriend. “To The Marauders.” He says proudly and you all clink glasses, taking a long sip of the sweet drink. 

As the hours pass, you find more bottles coming your way, you tenderly sip the Firewhiskey, passing it to Remus who loves it. You laugh as the effects of the drink rush to his head quickly. You put an arm around him and he leans into you, pressing his cold nose into your robes. “Damnnn. Tha’s good.”

By the time Lily and James leave, James barely able to stand anymore, you decide it’s time to head out but find that Remus is incapable of walking in a straight line to. “Oh, you bugger.” You sigh, lifting him into your arms. 

“Heyyyy— you—“ He takes a large gulp of breath. “Told me to come.”

“Yeah I suppose I did. Where’s Wormy?” You ask looking around the crowded pub. 

“Dunno— talking tuh Sniv-Sniv, the kid you hate.” 

You chuckle and lift him higher, walking out of the pub and onto the street. “Hold on tight.” You say to him and his grip around your neck tightens and you feel his cold nose against your neck. You apparate into your living room, the lights flicking on with a swish of your wand. 

Remus groans and you pat his back, carrying him to your room and laying him on the bed. Theres a flick of heat in your stomach at what the scenario _could be._ His eyes are still tightly shut and you pull him into a sitting position as he slumps against you. _“Accio The Rolling Stones shirt.”_ A shirt comes flying out of your stuffed drawer, landing in your lap. _“Accio Grey Joggers.”_ The joggers do the same and you stand up, holding onto Remus’s shoulders as you unbutton his robe and black button-up.

Scars litter his chest and arms and your heart twinges, you run your fingers across them and he whimpers at the cold. “Beautiful.” You whisper, before putting on his shirt. Fortunately, he is able to put on his own joggers while you hold him steady, two hands on his waist. 

He collapses down against your bed and you tug the sheets around him, tucking him in. His eyelashes flutter at you and you see the blonde coloring in the glow of the soft moonlight pouring in from the window. _Half-Moonlight._ You place a hand against his cheek, thumb running over the scars there too.

“Sirius?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve always wanted to kiss you.”

Your eyes widen and your head starts to pound. “Uh-Uh…”

“I’m sorry if it’ssss a little for-forward, but I’ve been thinking about it since third year.” He begins to tear up. “You’re beautiful.”

You looked at him with sad eyes, keeping your hand on his cheek. “You should’ve told me, Moony.” You say softly. 

“I am now. Can I?”

“Of course.”

So he kisses you, and you taste firewhisky and mint. His lips are soft and they move so smoothly against yours, his tongue mends with yours and you both stay there for a long time, kissing. When you finally break apart you’re both crying. He reaches up a hand and wipes away your tears. 

“Pads…..”

“Get some sleep, Moony.”

He’s crying because he’s drunk, and his emotions are everywhere. You’re crying because you know that when he wakes up in the morning he won’t remember a thing. 

**VIII. He moves in with you.**

He moves in with you and most of the time it’s just you two in that small, cozy flat and you love it. You love coming home from work with The Order and finding him curled up in an armchair in front of the fire, book sliding off his lap. 

You succumb through a lot of stress from The Order, and find that Padfoot helps with some of the stress. The feeling of having four legs and just being a _dog_ with no expectations from anybody. You go out and sit on the curb sometimes as Padfoot, and people pass, scratching behind your ear and patting you on the head. 

When you came back to the flat, still as Padfoot you find Remus waiting for you. “You can be Padfoot anytime you want.” He says and your fill with glee, tail wagging wildly and mouth dropping. You run for him and place your paws on his chest, bringing him to the floor, licking all over his face as he laughs and rolls around, yelling for you to stop. 

Padfoot always cheers him up, so when you notice his sadness you transform and run around the house as a dog and jump into his tap, blocking his view from the book he’s reading. And then sometimes when it’s raining outside, and the sounds are too loud for your ears— you walk into Remus’s room, claws tapping against the wood floor. He sits up in bed, whispering _Lumos_ at his wand and his bedroom lights up. He sighs and scoots over, patting the spot next to him and you jump on bed, twisting and turning in circles before you settle down beside him. 

“Why do I get the feeling you like being a dog more than a human?”

_Because I do._

“Padfoot is great, but I miss Sirius. Who’s going to take me out and get me drunk?”

_I love you._

He runs a hand through your fur and you watch as he slowly drifts to sleep. You wait a long time, watching him before you grow. You reach out a hand to his face and run your fingers along his skin. “I love you.” You repeat. Over and over again. 

**IX. Harry Potter is born and it changes everyones lives.**

On the 31 of July you became a Godfather to Harry James Potter, son to Lily and James Potter.

It was one of the best moments of your life. 

He was so… angel-like. With light skin and hair like his father, green eyes just like his father covered by thick eyelashes. His little fist gripped around your larger finger as you cradled him in your arms. “Hello, Harry. Hello. It’s your birthday today. We’ve been waiting so long for you, little one.”

You pace the hall of St. Mungos, bouncing the newborn in your arms as Lily and James rest in their room. When you look up you see Remus, smiling. “I never expected to see _bad Sirius Black_ holding a baby.” He says, stepping towards you to peer into the blue-blanket-bundle.

“Remember? Hogwarts bad boy.”

He laughed and you passed little Harry, looking over Remus’s shoulder. Harry opens his little eyes, gazing upward at the two of you. “He’s beautiful.” Remus says, running a finger along Harry’s little cheek. Your eyes switch from the newborn to Remus, the picture of him holding and rocking a baby embedded in your mind. It was the most beautiful picture you had ever seen. 

 

Then, more than a year later, on a breezy Halloween night things fall apart faster than you thought possible. 

_James Potter is dead. Lily Potter is dead._

You see your Godson in Hagrids arms and you almost let your knees buckle underneath you, but you grab onto the front door and take in a shaky breath. “Can I at least say goodbye to him?”

Wearily, Hagrid hands you a little sleeping Harry and you cradle him one last time, running a finger over the little scar on his forehead. “You little miracle.” You whisper, pressing your lips to his scar. _“I love you.”_

They come for you in the middle of the night after you’ve sent an owl to Remus, who was visiting his mother, you let them drag you away and convict you of murder and betraying Lily and James Potter. There was no point in fighting. Your name was already in the papers, _Sirius Black the murder, the traitor._ You could imagine Remus, reading the paper at his mothers house then going to pack his things. Leaving you behind. 

There was no point.

**X. The days were lonely, and all you could think of was him.**

It was cold here, and the sun never shined. People were being brought in all the time, forcing you to listen to their screams. After a while you got used to it, and felt nothing except, _well_ , nothing. There was no day and night and you lost track of all the days, the months and years becoming blurs in your fading brain. There was no reason for you to fight, you had no energy. So you laid on the cool floor of your cell for years, in a daze. You thought about _him_ often. How you should’ve never fallen in love with him. 

You were disgusting, filthy, a muggle-lover. And a disappointment to your family. Nobody loved you, not after everybody saw what they accused you of. Nobody is coming to save you, and here you are, this is how you will die. Laying on an icy floor staring at the same walls.

He deserved more than you, needed more than you. You were always reliant on your friends and their parents, you could never do things yourself. For Merlins sake, you didn’t even buy your own flat, your uncle gave you the money and Remus’s mother helped pay for the rent. 

You are nothing.  

You always were _nothing._ And it didn’t even hurt when that settled in. Because inside, you knew it all along. 

**XI. Seeing the sun again was breathtaking, but seeing his eyes again was an unexplainable euphoria. _It was love._**

Padfoot came to you in the middle of the night and you _ran._ The cold wind brushing against your black fur, paws bouncing off the grass as you galloped towards civilization— to Number Four, Pivet Drive. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, seeing the full moon. 

Because you thought of _him._ And you missed him. 

 

He hugged you. 

You held onto his robes and ignored the terrified children in the corner, holding onto your best friend with everything you had. There was so much you wanted to say to him, but he let go first and you turned to face Harry Potter, now standing at five foot three, your Godson. 

You lost it, you got it back. 

 

He arrived at you and Buckbeaks hideout when term ended, carrying a briefcase and a warm smile. You ran to each other, holding on tightly. Buckbeak squalled loudly at the new guest, his shouts blending in with the sound of Remus saying incoherent words to you as he held you, briefcase dropped in the wet dirt outside of your small mountain cabin. 

“I never thought I would see you again.”

“Me neither.”

You pulled away, looking at each other before hugging once again. “I’m so so sorry, Padfoot.” Remus says, pressing his face into your long hair.

“I’m okay now. We’re okay now.” You say, voice thick with tears. Remus’s head moves up as he looks over your shoulder. “What the ruddy hell?”

You turn towards Buckbeak, his arms still around you. “That’s Buckbeak. My housemate.”

“ _This_ is my replacement?”

You wanted to tell him that you could never replace him, even if everyone in the world decided to drink a polyjuice potion to become him. You could never be without him, and even during those dark years in Azakaban, you thought of him daily. 

Standing there surrounded by the wet forest, fresh rain on the leaves and sining into the ground, you watched Remus pet Buckbeak after bowing, and finally felt it. _Love._

You thought you had lost it. 

 

He stays with you for a few days, before you persuade him to go back to the flat, that he’s not supposed to be here and Dumbledore would have a fit if he found out. _“When have we not been trouble makers?”_

You sit on the side of the mountain eating shabby sandwiches and drinking rainwater, watching the sunset. The sky turns a glorious pink and you turn to Remus seeing his face glowing. “When will I see you again, Pads?”

“Soon enough.”

He sighs and looks down at his crossed ankles, dangling over the ledge. “But it’s not. I don’t want to leave you again.”

“I don’t want you to leave either.” You respond. “But this is how it has to be for now.” You say, taking his hand. 

The forest shudders as wind sweeps through the leaves, blowing the orange and brown debris near you and Remus, landing near your legs and lightly tapping your back as you block their journey to the beyond. “He looks just like James, Harry does.” Remus says. 

“But with Lily’s eyes.”

He turns and looks at yours and doesn’t look away until another gust of wind comes, sending his unfinished Pumpkin Juice bottle over the ledge. 

 **XII. You tell him the horrors of your childhood, and he takes your hand and tells you everything is going to be alright.**  
****

“This is where I grew up.”

It’s dustier than you remember, and that’s putting it nicely. It’s filthy and smells of mold and decay. But it’s empty— void of family members and hatred, though somehow you still feel it. You feel yourself get angry, looking at the filthy kitchen, angry at your family, angry at how you grew up. 

“It’s beautiful.” Remus says, and you feel a smile come to your face. Your room is cleared out, those “Permanent” Sticking Charms have faded as the posters droop over your bed. Theres still a radio sitting underneath your bed, and a box of tapes. Remus kneels beside you, looking through them as you run your finger across the radio. 

He pops in one of the tapes and takes it from you, placing it on the dresser. The radio clicks loudly and for a second you’re scared it won’t play, but then music comes and you both stand in the ray of sunlight that has never moved from the spot in your carpet, across from each other. Remus steps forward first—

“Hey.” You look up at him and he’s smiling, one corner of his mouth going up. “Cool room.”

You laugh and he steps forward again, and now you’re inches away and his eyes are so fucking beautiful in the golden, dusty sunlight.

“Thanks, Moony.”

“I’m glad you showed us.” _Showed me._

“Me too.”

The music picks up and his hands fall against your hips. “Dance with me.”

You place a hand on his back and the other on his shoulder, pressing your chests together. The music fills your childhood bedroom, and the sunlight blinds you, and the hatred you have for this house slips away for a moment as you dance together. Looking into his golden grey eyes, all his beautiful scars illuminating. 

Molly Weasley is downstairs looking for you while her children complain about their dwellings for the rest of the summer, Tonks and Moody are trying to stop your screaming mothers portrait by arguing with her, but her voice is the loudest, Kreacher is missing and Hermione looks for him with a plate of sandwiches in her hand while Ron Weasley rolls his eyes, telling her to _let it go._

It’s more than you can ask for. And as the music fades, he doesn’t let go. 

**XIII. Theres noisy teenagers all over your home, and it’s music to your ears.**

Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place had never been so full of life than it is now. With teenagers running around, arguing— with adults running around, or falling, and arguing. Your mother hates it and it only makes you happier. 

Harry Potter comes and you don’t leave his side— protective over your Godson after all these years. Making sure he’s eating enough, sleeping enough, you feel like you’re competing with Molly Weasley all the time for “Best Mum”.

Remus sleeps in one of the guest bedrooms but sometimes he comes in yours and you sit, leaned against your childhood bed and listening to soft muggle music— it’s something he’s come to love. And sometimes you talk, sometimes you don’t, it’s beautiful either way. Then, he stops coming to your room and you try not to let it bother you… but when you’re coming back from the toilet one night, you hear his voice and then a girls laughing after it. _Tonks._

You lay back down in your bed, waiting for him. But he never comes. 

 

Harry and all the teens go back to Hogwarts and it’s quiet again. You’re left alone and people only come by occasionally. The hot summer days turn into breezy fall ones and you watch the leaves change colors from the windows because you’re not allowed outside, you don’t even know if you have the energy to go outside. You’re so tired.

You spend all day in your night clothes, sitting by a crackling fire trying to do something productive and read but you always get sidetracked, thinking of Remus and his new fancy apartment in Wales by his mother. The only person who seems to need you is Harry. But you’re okay with that— you’d rather have him than nobody. 

 

The holidays approach and you ready yourself to another Christmas alone, but then Molly proposes spending the holidays at your house and it’s the happiest you’ve felt in a long time. You string tinsel and flashy Christmas decorations with the children, humming muggle Christmas songs and buying a lopsided Christmas tree and decorating it with your hands and not your wand. 

Remus comes later, and he hugs you for a long time. You always loved his hugs. 

But behind him is Nymphadora Tonks and you swallow your jealously, hugging her also before she falls into the coat rack. Christmas Eve dinner is amazing, and theres people all over the table and laughter fills the house… it feels warm and you can feel your mothers seething glare from behind her curtain but you don’t care. You can’t care. 

Not when everybody you love is here, when your Godson is looking at you like you’re the world along with Remus and you’re looking at him like he’s yours. _He is._

You drink a bit too much eggnog and smuggle some to Harry, Ron, Fred, and George who take it up with satisfied smirks and hushed voices. You watch them go up the stairs with a proud smile and feel a hand on your shoulder. “They remind me of us.”

“Me too. He’s—“

“Just like his father.” You say together, then grin. “His eyes though, they’re Lily’s.”

“Everyone tells him that.” Remus says and you both sit down in the empty living room, next to each other while the fire cracks beside you. He sighs and leans back against the velvet couch, closing his eyes.

“Padfoot…”

“Yeah, Moony?’

“I-“ He sighs again and then fishes in his robes pocket pulling out a black velvet box. You nearly vomit from surprise, and your eyes widen and a hand goes to your chest. Flashes go by quickly, of you two getting married, adopting Harry and living together forever, he’ll never have to go back to the Dursley’s and you’ll be happy for the rest of your lives. “I want to propose to Tonks.”

Then you’re pulled through what feels like a rubber tube, kind of like apparating, and you’re back on the couch with Remus cracking open the box and showing a ring. “It was my mothers.”

You start crying and your chest hurts, everything hurts. “Oh, Remus…”

He closes the box and places it back in his robes, putting an arm around you. “We had to grow up one day."

You keep crying while blubbering lies, _yes get married, sure, uh-huh, that sounds great._ And you cry all night. It feels like every part of you is crushed and broken and you’re just a walking ghost. You can’t breathe and you grab onto your chest and force yourself to take shaky breaths, roping yourself over a panic attack. 

“Please, no, Please, no.” You whimper silently into the darkness of your room. Nobody hears you. 

 

You see him holding the box under his robes as he stands up before Tonks. He clears his throat and her eyes are too wide and too immature— she’s a lovely girl, you can’t deny it. But she’s not you. And he must have you _he must._ This can’t be real. This is just a dream. _Wake up! Wake up!_

You don’t wake up and you watch from the couch as he begins to pull out the black box. He looks over his shoulder at you and you don’t do anything. You hate yourself because you can’t smile, you don’t want to. Moody knows what’s happening and his eyes dart from them to you, along with Molly. And in her eyes you see hurt, but not for herself— for you. You hate yourself because you’re not a good best friend. Because here you are, as your best friend looks so fucking happy about to propose and you’re trying to hold yourself together. 

He gets down on one knee and Tonks looks over his head to you. You can’t even meet her eyes, instead looking down at your scuffed up boots and the carpet that you should clean again. A tear falls onto your pants and your quick to wipe the other ones before anyone notices, thank Merlin your long hair covers come of the pain. 

“Will you marry me?”

She says yes and you feel your heart break. It’s a weird feeling. It gets really tight and you think you’re having another panic attack, but then it unravels and goes limp and you feel _nothing._ You’re paralyzed. Watching behind glossed over eyes.

Your Moony proposes to the sun and you’re lost somewhere in outer space. 

**XIV. You’re falling backwards and he’s the last thing you think of.**

The skies are grey and it rains a lot. Kreacher doesn’t clean anymore and the fireplaces are cold and ashy. Your owl brings back letters only for them to gather in a pile on the coffee table, going unread. Harry can’t get to you anymore and your mirror rests in front of you but you never see his eyes in it. 

You leave the windows open and snow gets in and sometimes floats down to your chin, you don’t bother flicking it off. You drink a lot and you also cry too. You vomit into the kitchen sink and you swim in your self-pity and hatred. You let your mother scream at you and degrade you because it doesn’t hurt anymore. You’re a hypocrite and you know it, you hate yourself for it. 

You’re sure there’s a letter in there from him. But you can’t answer, not when you know you’re response is going back to the flat that he’s going to share with his _wife._ You wonder if they’re going to have children. And they’ll call you Uncle Padfoot. You vomit into the sink again because the thought is so revolting. 

Not to be mean, you just hate the thought of his… dick… in… her.

You vomit again and you hear Kreacher mutter something under his breath. “If you have—“ You heave. “Something to say, Kreacher. Say it.”

_“Drunk. Oh how she would be ashamed. Oh. Oh. How terrible… wasting away.”_

“I’M NOT WASTING AWAY!”

_Even you know thats a lie._

A thunderstorm wakes you up one night, rain pouring in sideways through your window while lightning flashes and thunder rolls loudly. You stick your head into the rain, then you climb out of your window and sit on the windowsill, legs dangling down the side of the house. You drink while the wind spins and the lighting cracks— you think of your life and how much it relates to this moment now. 

 

You’re hungover when you go to save Harry Potter and his friends from the danger inside the Department of Mysteries. You’re reminded of how _like_ James he is— always willing to take risks, wanting to live on the dangerous side, Merlin, that boy can’t sit still for a bloody minute. 

You wish you were like James in that way, maybe there wouldn’t be a ring on Tonks’s finger that churns your stomach as you watch her point her wand at Death Eaters. You could’ve told Remus you loved him. Harry calls your name and you run to your Godson, producing your wand and stepping into battle. Your fighting off spells and sending spells of your own to your cousin Bellatrix and she cackles with each one. 

You’re fighting with James against Severus Snape, both of you sending  Jinxes at the snotty nosed, greasy-haired git while Lily Potter yells at you to leave him alone. It’s a warm sunny day at Hogwarts and you can feel the sun against the back of your robe and in your long hair. Students gather around to watch and you smile at the attention, because thats all you ever wanted was attention. Admiration. 

James knocks Severus to his feet and the boy lies against the grass, holding his wand loosely in his left hand as his eyes are screwed shut, his feet growing to the size of medium-sized rocks. Students laugh and you turn to James and high five him, “Nice one, James!”

Then your chest feels cold and the coldness expands till it takes over your body. You see Bellatrix Lestrange as she points her wand at you, a smile on her face. The world goes in slow motion and you rise, the cold running through you like water on a hot summer day. His eyes hold onto yours and you remember sitting across from him at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He looked terrified and you tried playing it cool. It was the first time you met. The first time you fell in love. 

You wish things were that simple again. 

You bid him well and hope he can be happy with Tonks, you hope that Harry won’t be too upset. This is what you wanted anyways. Remus runs towards you and you think you’re smile. You whisper to him, but you don’t think he hears you as you slip into a state of peacefulness and you’re fully submerged in a relaxing, cold. 

Dying was surprisingly easy, and it was the best gift life could have ever given you. Once you were going, it was easy to accept. Easy to finally just close your eyes and _breathe._

You feel like you’ve been holding your breath forever. 


	2. sirius's letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after requested, here is the letter sirius wrote to lupin before he was taken away to azkaban. just for the added heartache...

Dumbledore clears his throat and pulls out an envelope as Remus Lupin lays a steaming teacup in front of him. “How are you, Remus?”

“Um- fine. A-And you? Professor?”

“Well enough, considering the circumstances.”

Remus sits across from him and rubs his palms against his pants. “I’m guessing this is about Harry?”

“No. Actually, it’s about you.”

Remus furrows his eyebrows and leans forward. “For me?”

“I- uh. I should’ve given this to you a long time ago.” He looks down at the letter, tracing it’s edges. “I feel terrible I didn’t.”

“What is it?”

“Sirius sent you a letter before he was taken to Azkaban and sentenced. It- well-“ Dumbledore stood up and placed the letter on the table. “I’m going to let you read it yourself.”

Dumbledore disapparates and leaves Remus looking over a old, yellowing, envelope. With shaky hands he runs a finger underneath it, letting the letter open and it’s contents poke out. 

 

_Moony._

_They’ve killed Lily and James. You-Know-Who. Hagrids taking Harry to live with his aunt and uncle, muggles. Ridiculous. He should be here with me. I gave Hagrid my motorcycle and now I’m scared, people are saying I did it. Because they saw me there when those muggles were blasted by Peter. Merlin. I’m so scared. I wish you were here. I don’t know what’s going to happen but I love you, okay? I fucking love you Remus Lupin. You’re the most beautiful man in the world and theres nobody I want to be with besides you. I love you._

_Please don’t believe them. I would never betray our friends. We always knew Peter was kind of a nutter. I love you. I’ve said that. But I do. I could say it to you forever. I want to. I want to marry you one day and we can go and steal Harry and it will all be okay. I love you. Okay?_

_They’re coming. I’m scared. But I love you._

_I love you._

_Yours, Padfoot._

_P.S I love you._

**Author's Note:**

> This took me more than a week to write. Gah.
> 
> Also, I know that some of the timelines are a little messed up but it's all for good reason. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. 
> 
> P.S I have the letter Sirius sent to Remus before he got dragged away, I can post if requested.


End file.
